'Take seats, no talking.'
The seventh years filed in to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. It looked near enough how Snape had left it when he'd taught this lesson the previous year. Little light entered through the dark curtains and it was fairly cold. This was the lesson Neville was looking forward to least. Muggle Studies was bad, but he had a feeling this was going to be worse. He and Seamus sat at the back again. When everyone had settled and quietened, Amycus Carrow turned round from the blackboard, which had the words Defence Against the Dark Arts written roughly in chalk, and spoke.
'Firstly,' he murmured, 'I need to clarify something.'
So saying, he pointed his wand at the blackboard and some of the chalk vanished, as though he were directing the movements of an invisible eraser. Now just the words the Dark Arts remained. A few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
'You are to learn the beauty of the Dark Arts and how it can be used in combat – or for persuasion,' he added with a devilish grin. 'I will be teaching you all my favourite method of punishment, and we'll see how well you can put it into practise yourselves. I daresay some of you will pick it up quicker than others. So – the Cruciatus Curse,' he said, rubbing his hands together. The class, already silent, was frozen in shock.
'I –' Ernie began angrily, but Amycus appeared not to hear him.
'Anyone who objects to the tasks involved in my lesson will be the object of the practised curses. If anyone would like to step forward now, feel free.'
No one did.
'Good – now ...' Amycus turned around and bent to pick up something. Neville had a spontaneous urge, in that moment when the teacher had his backed turned, to curse Carrow there and then but Amycus was already facing them again and dropped a cage inhabiting a strange creature on the floor '... to make this easier and more tempting for you, we will be torturing this little blighter, kindly –' he cut off, as uproar broke at the word 'torturing'. There was a deafening BANG! and silence fell once more.
'– Kindly provided by the oaf, Hagrid. Who's first?'
No one moved. Neville had never been a fan of the Blast-Ended Skrewts, but he was never going to use the Cruciatus Curse. He didn't care what Carrow said, he wasn't going to do it – and neither were most of the other students by the sound of it.
'Ah, well volunteered, young Vincent,' grinned Carrow as Crabbe rose a bit too eagerly for Neville's liking. More noises of indignation and shock rumbled through the room but Carrow was too busy unlocking the cage to notice. The Skrewt looked several months old, and was taller than the desks but not full-grown by any means. It scuttled out the metal cage, sniffing the air and snorting.
'You really need to mean it, Vince – when you're ready.'
Neville noticed how he treated Crabbe like he was someone whose education was to be nurtured, which Neville didn't think would be given to any other student in the school except for Goyle of course. Neville thought back to when he was on the train, comprehending how dangerous those two would be now ... which was ironic seeing as they were usually regarding at the stupidest boys ever.
A loud bang and scream brought Neville back to the present – it looked as though Crabbe's Cruciatus Curse had struck gold. The rest of the class, excluding the Slytherins (who were cheering Crabbe on) looked both disgusted and shocked at Crabbe's ability. This wasn't going to be a pleasant lesson at all, let alone for the rest of the year. Terry Boot, Seamus and all the girls were white in the face. Neville had warned them at breakfast this lesson wouldn't be the same, but none of them could have expected this.
It was a small comfort that Carrow ran out of time. All the Slytherins had had a go at the curse, and Carrow exclaimed clearly that the Ravenclaws would be next to try in tomorrow's lesson. The Skrewt, wheezing and jumping at the slightest movement around it, was forced back into its cage for tomorrow.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. One minute, Neville was leaving Transfiguration then sitting down for dinner in the Great Hall; the thoughts of Crabbe and Goyle's Cruciatus Curses had stuck with him throughout.
He set off up the staircases again until he reached the seventh floor. Walking down the corridor, he halted in front of the stretch of wall that he was looking for. Closing his eyes, he walked past it three times.
I need a place to fight and hide from the Carrows ... I need a place to fight and hide from the Carrows ... I need a place to fight and hide from the Carrows ...
He opened his eyes. The large double doors had materialised before him. He pushed them open.
It looked just how it had when Harry had led them two years ago. There were bookshelves filled to the brim with spellbooks. Detective equipment scattered small tables, including what Neville remembered as a Sneakoscope and Foe-Glass, both of which were inactive. Red-and-gold Gryffindor hangings draped from the pillars and walls, with benches below them to sit on. A large blackboard with chalk stood at the back. This left a hefty open space in the centre of the room for practising. Yet Neville couldn't help but feel that the Room was asking too much of the DA: did they really have both the brawn and brains to learn how to fight?
At that moment, the doors reopened and Luna wandered in, a trail of students behind her. They all looked around in admiration, some cheering and whistling appreciatively. Even as they walked in, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff banners appeared on the walls from nowhere. It was a good turnout: about thirty students had arrived, and when the last person (Terry) had closed the door, the Room was filled with excited chatter.
'Welcome back to Dumbledore's Army!' called Neville, and the cheering augmented. When it died down, he continued, 'So ... since Harry isn't here, I think we need a new – not necessarily a leader, but someone to keep us all together, organise strategies ... any volunteers?'
There was a short pause.
'But it's obvious isn't it? You, Neville!' someone shouted from the back, and there were many noises of agreement.
'Me?' Neville yelped. 'I – don't be silly, I can't –'
'Of course you can, Neville,' said Ginny, who for some reason was carrying a bulky plastic bag, 'it was your idea to start this up again anyway. No offense to anyone –' (Ginny glanced behind her quickly) '– but you're the bravest here, you can stand up for yourself.'
More sounds of agreement followed this. But only when a slow chant of 'Neville, Neville, Neville!' started, he realised that there was no escaping it: everyone wanted him to lead.
'OK, OK, I'll do it!' he said, and there was a loud cheer. 'So – has anyone got any ideas about – I dunno ... challenging the Carrows?'
Again, there was a short silence, before Neville heard a rustling noise. Everyone turned to see Ginny half-drag her black sack into view and dropped it on the floor for everyone to see.
'You're going to like this,' she said to the confused crowd, opening the sack. She drew out a thin, if not a little dusty, black cloak, almost like Harry's Invisibility Cloak. She tossed it to Neville.
'Great – er, what is it?' asked Neville, and a couple of people laughed. The laughter turned to shock, however, as Ginny drew her wand, pointed it at Neville and said, 'Stupefy!'
Neville was frozen in shock and didn't move. The jet of red light hit the cloak in Neville's hands and ricocheted off, hitting a far wall.
'Shield Cloaks,' answered Ginny with a grin, as Seamus roared with triumph. 'They're Fred and George's. They left some stock behind during the summer and I thought they might be useful for school in case You-Know-Who's taken over ... they'll be alright, they've got a load in their shop.'
'They're brilliant!' Neville told her, turning over the Cloak in his arms.
'They won't be much use against the Cruciatus Curse,' Ginny shrugged, 'but they'll do.'
'Never mind ... how many have you got?'
'Let's see ...' she began rummaging through the bag, 'Accio Cloaks!'
A large bulk of the cloaks emerged out of the bag and Ernie counted them as they hit the floor.
'Twenty-two,' he said, 'not quite enough to go around, but we can take it in turns.'
'Great,' Neville said again, 'what else is in there?' he asked Ginny, for he could tell the bag wasn't empty.
'Oh, all sorts,' she said as she began rummaging again. 'Extendable Ears, Decoy Detonators, some of that Darkness Powder ... I reckon if we share it all out and keep them during the day, just in case, we'll be ... well-equipped.'
There was a complete silence. Neville himself was also struggling to get over everything that Ginny had provided; it was the best he could have hoped for.
'Wow ... well done, Ginny!' said Neville, half-laughing in relief. Slowly, they all approached the contents strewn around the bag, picking them up with awe.
They spent the rest of the session testing the Shield Cloaks. It was very impressive. Seamus was the first to try one on and allow members to fire jinxes and hexes at him, but they all bounced off. It was only until he accidentally received three Stunners at the same time that the Cloak's power was penetrated and Ginny, laughing, brought Seamus round again. Another factor of the Cloaks was that they fitted perfectly under their school robes, completely unseen. The two hours went very quickly and, because all students had to be in their common room by nine o'clock, they walked out in high spirits at a quarter to. Neville, Seamus and the pack of Gryffindors headed up to the seventh floor, all still marvelling at the products they had, their pockets bulging with Decoy Detonators and Extendable Ears, the Shield Cloaks beneath their school robes. Ginny seemed a lot happier than yesterday and Neville couldn't help but smile at the memory of Luna beaming when jinxes bounced off her body. It was reassuring to see her look safe and protected like that, and Neville fell asleep that night with ease ...